


Smoke and Honey

by ScrewzLooze



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bodyguard Changbin, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Prince Felix, Smoking, light fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16320590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrewzLooze/pseuds/ScrewzLooze
Summary: Changbin is a seasoned bodyguard, hired to protect the heir of District 9. Prince Felix is expected to marry someone of his choosing soon, and there is an abundance of courtiers, for which reason Changbin was hired until the search ends.Changbin has fought and won many battles and has been trained all throughout his career to always be prepared for the unexpected. Yet the one thing nothing could ever prepare him for was learning that out of all the people in the far and wide district, the Prince may only have eyes for him.A tale of five times Changbin failed to realize Felix was in love with him and the one time he did.





	Smoke and Honey

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I would make one of those "5 times" structures, but it made total sense for the timeline as I was sketching out the story. Ever since I've read somewhere that Felix occasionally likes to eat honey on its own, I had to get it out of my system with a fic.

**0.**

The sun shined high on the vest ether veiled under thin, feathery clouds as Changbin took a drag of his cigarette, leaning out the window sill. He squinted his eyes at the sun, puffing the smoke toward streaks of vanilla clouds, watching the wind disperse them into faded swirls. It was then that someone interrupted him by a gentle knock on the door, forcing him to hurriedly discard the cigarette whichever way his wrist happened to flick first.

"The Prince will arrive in a few minutes. Please join us in the lobby to greet him." One of the maids of the palace reminded him as she was fleeting down the hallway, the flares of her skirt bunched up in a grip by her side, peeking at him from behind the towering ebony doors before leaving in a frenzy.

Changbin let out a weary sigh of relief, leaning over the window to make sure his cigarette didn’t catch any of the nearby bushes and vines on fire. Once certain that he won’t burn down the palace on his third day of arrival, he took a swift glance at himself in the mirror, and feigned some composure, wondering if it was too late to jump after his cigarette and finish it.

The room he was occupying at the moment was supposed to be _his_ , yet it appeared too spacious, either packed with meaningless decor or left too much empty space behind in all the wrong ways. Nothing was placed there with practical intentions; everything subservient to royal aesthetics. Changbin preferred when things were practical, like having towels he could actually use, and not just decor elements. He was scolded for wiping his hands into one of those yesterday, his cheeks burning in embarrassment and frustration at the memory.

But moving frequently was part of Changbin’s job as a bodyguard - he needed to be where his clients were, and Felix was on his way back from a diplomacy trip, ready to begin sorting through a long list of marriage proposals. Changbin should be grateful, even, since the highest of honor for a bodyguard in any district was to protect its royalties. Almost every bodyguard aspired to the position he was in now. Up until this point in his life, Changbin was no exception. But with his wildest dream now a reality, living in a palace and serving the royal family, he could hardly explain how it all happened.

He was still clueless as to why the District Council and Prince Felix decided on him of all people. He was sure his application was lacking in many regards even though he had served in the District Army for six years before parting with several honors. For a man of his age, only in his twenties, it was a notable achievement, in spite of the growth he had yet to do.

There was a special spring in his steps as he speedily made his way down the spiral staircase neighboring his room, everything carved of marble, the half-inch heels of his dress shoes echoing off the empty walls as they hit the stone. On one hand, he was excited to prove himself. But behind that excitement, there was plenty of apprehension regarding the Prince. What if they won't get along? Bodyguards and their clients must have a special bond of trust and understanding unique to any other arrangement or relationship. For some people, a bodyguard meant more than their family. It wasn’t uncommon to hear of royalties buried beside their bodyguards, closer than to their own relatives.

Or what was worse, what if the Prince would change his mind upon seeing him, deeming Changbin unfit for the role? Changbin wasn’t the tallest soldier, especially without his dress shoes and boots, and had a relatively skinny frame. To his advantage, that allowed him to protect his clients better, since only a few if any would try to take him out first, never thinking he was a seasoned bodyguard.

He shook his head, attempting to disperse his anxieties once he had reached a new set of the same ebony doors leading toward the lobby, with a long line of maids, cooks, family members, and friends standing in a horizontal line by the entryway eagerly awaiting the Prince's arrival.

Changbin stood beside them, smoothing over his bullet proof jacket one last time, palms slick of a thin layer of perspiration, before the entryway opened wide with an obnoxious creak, and Felix had stepped into the room, smiling from ear to ear.

That was the first thing Changbin noted about the Prince - his bright smile, untroubled, pearly teeth framed by two rosy lips.

The bodyguard's breath hitched at the sight, but managed to will the muscles on his face motionless until it was time to shake hands.

The Prince looked sublime and mighty with his silhouette beaming from the sun behind him, a scenery of rich mountains, evergreens, and blurry hills painting him picture-pretty.

The second thing Changbin noted about Felix was how it took no time for the Prince’s eyes to meet his, almost as if he was specifically looking for Changbin out of all the people he was expected to greet first. The bodyguard could count every single crystal hanging off the chandelier being reflected in the Prince's eyes, making them as starry as the night sky spangled with stars. There was something else twinkling in them, too; something that made Changbin feel like the whole world was watching him, but he quickly casted that thought aside, seeing as the Prince was about to approach him.

Felix bowed, graciously taking Changbin's hand between his own. "It is great to finally meet you, Changbin. I’ve been waiting for so long!" He said, nearly disappearing from view after that, raided by the large group of guests impatient to shake hands with him too, so Changbin stepped to the side, watchfully observing the afternoon unfold. Every now and then, he caught the Prince glancing in his direction with lips curled into a brilliant smile, so much so that Changbin had to turn around and see if there was anyone else standing behind him, but it was just him in front of the empty stairway.

** 1. **

  
Changbin’s responsibilities for the day were supposed to end when it came to the Prince’s bedtime, by reminding Felix of his duties for the following day before parting.

“Prince, don’t forget that we will have a district hall meeting tomorrow, and that the maids will come early to help you get ready for it. That means we will --”

“Don’t you want to come in and talk about all that?” The Prince inquired, resting his back against the door, a pair of alluring eyes beckoning Changbin to follow. The bodyguard blinked at him dumbfounded - Was this some kind of test whether he knew the rules? Whether he was a traitor? Or was Felix always this flexible about them?

“I’m sorry my Prince but that is against our Code of Conduct.”

“But why?” The Prince challenged, his bottom lip curving into a small pout, very unlike the dignified, formidable loyalty he was said to be on paper. He reminded Changbin of the petunias and tulips growing in the royal garden, all comely and charming, asking to be plucked but not allowed to, so they just tempt whoever passes by.

Too immersed in thinking about all the possible ways this could be a trap, he failed to reply in time before the Prince began pulling on his arms, one hand already curled around the doorknob.

“We hardly have enough time to talk during the day. You are supposed to be my confidant, but what confidant is the one who doesn’t know what’s burdening me?”

“Oh,” Changbin gasped, voice heavy of concern as he took Felix’s latter question to heart. He had yet to learn what playful of a prince Felix was. “Are there things burdening you? I must know about them.”

Felix’s lips twitched into a smirk before he quickly transformed it into another pout, glancing up at Changbin from behind his lashes.

“Yes! And since there is no other time we could talk, that means that I must _require_ you to join my company for a while.”

Changbin couldn’t help a sense of suspicion gnawing at him regarding his Prince’s truthfulness, resulting in nothing better than a hesitant nod. But that uncertainty didn’t seem to bother Felix one bit - he even giggled at Changbin while he pulled him through the door, the sound of the giggle breaking into two, with one part leaving them behind as it echoed through the hallway, and the other insolently stuck inside Changbin’s ears. There was a unique way in which the Prince’s voice could get under people’s skin, the way it constantly lingered between daunting yet gentle, tentative but also confident, a mature voice of a royalty wearing the giggle of a sweet, enchanting boy.

Once inside, the bodyguard was compelled to spin around on the balls of his feet multiple times before he could fully take in the pompousness of the room. There were diamonds hanging from the chandelier and precious stones substituted for every knob on the Prince’s dresser. The sheets on his bed were fire red satin, half of said bed being littered with enough plush pillows to build another palace out of.

There was also a large vanity stand adjacent to the bed, with an equally large mirror bracketed by light bulbs every few inches or so. Felix threw himself down on the small, backless chair that stood before the vanity, eagerly pouring a generous amount of, what Changbin guessed, was some kind of makeup remover onto a cotton pad.

Within a matter of seconds, the wipes uncovered two sleepy eyes, a pair of chapped lips, and to Changbin’s shock, a sparse collection of gold flakes adorning the Prince’s skin. Changbin could feel his own mouth parting in astonishment, the blinding lights of the vanity stand bringing into view the prettiest face he ever had the chance of seeing. How could it be possible to look more beautiful bare faced than with the aid of the finest products in the land?

But Felix was so busy brushing and wiping at his face in a furious tempo, leaving his face momentarily red, that he didn’t notice how uneasy the bodyguard was getting.

Changbin hooked his index finger under the collar of his shirt in a futile attempt to adjust it around his neck, feeling so hot as if he had just finished toiling under the relentless midday sun.

He only found his voice to speak again when he noticed the growing pile of dirty cotton pads accumulating on Felix’s stand, yet there had to be about half of the Prince’s face still covered in makeup.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you wear so much makeup?” Changbin found himself asking, framing the question not as cautiously as he had hoped for. But Felix didn’t seem insulted by it, although he did stop wiping his face.

“Part of it is just etiquette. But I also like to cover my freckles.”

Changbin was baffled at the response, if not outright hurt.

“Is there a reason you don’t like them?” He asked on fervently, deciding to be helpful by grabbing the used cotton pads off the table and throwing them into the trashcan placed conveniently near the stand.

“I want to look good for my people so I don’t show it to them.” Felix whispered, handing over his last cotton pad to Changbin.

The bodyguard suddenly noticed a small streak of makeup left on Felix’s left cheek, so he took the same wipe the Prince just handed to him and used it to ever so gently glide it over the spot. He didn’t think twice about the gesture, perhaps it was a daring and reckless move, something no one else could lure him into doing other than Felix.

He watched the boy inhale shakily at the touch, breath staggering until his lungs were full, see his eyes fluttering shut, dark and long lashes blinking them close. Changbin’s throat ran dry at the sight, suddenly aware of how relentlessly hot this _damn_ room was once again.

“I think they suit your face. Should I challenge you to start flaunting them?” Changbin teased, the brightness rising to the Prince’s lips at the question putting any and all vanity lights to shame.

“Do you really think they suit me?” Felix asked, just to hear Changbin complement him again.

“I solemnly swear I do.” Changbin said with a hand over his heart for dramatic emphasis. It seemed to do the trick as Felix broke out into a laugh, beautiful enough to release a wild rabble of butterflies yearning to flap free inside Changbin’s stomach.

“You see, I did need you here!” The Prince grinned, his words pulling at Changbin’s heartstrings like a bow of a violin.

“But now that my work is done, it is time for me to leave and for you to rest.” Changbin said, resisting the urge to comb through the Prince’s hair obstructing his face as he leaned his chin against the bodyguard’s chest.

“You could help me put on my makeup tomorrow.” Felix proposed, “Since if it’s left to me, I would end up covering my freckles again. I trust your judgment better.”

“Well…” Changbin began, unable to hold back a chuckle at Felix’s imploring gaze, all the lights and sparkles of the room swimming in them. “It wasn’t in my job description but I guess I can try.”

The Prince bit down on his bottom lip in excitement, eyes turning into merry crescent moons, forming chubby wrinkles around them.

Changbin hurriedly bid goodnight after that, before he would start cooing at the Prince or do something equally unprofessional. He had risked more than enough for one day.

Besides, it was now his time to prepare for bed, although his nighttime routine, for obvious reasons, was way simpler than that of the Prince’s. After doing a few push ups and stretches in his room, he opened the windows as wide as they could go, proceeding to pull a pack of cigarettes out from one of the hidden pockets with a lighter snuggled inside.

Only after the first inhale did he realize how tense his muscles had been, unusually so, despite such an uneventful day.

Upon gazing at the stars, his mind immediately wandered to thoughts of Felix - perhaps he was so tense because he was responsible for one of the most prominent figures of the kingdom. _That seemed to make sense_.

Changbin took another drag of his smoke, holding it in for a few seconds before tilting his head back and exhaling it into the chilly air. He stub it out even before he was halfway through, trying to cut back on the habit so he wouldn’t get caught like he almost did this morning.

Pulling the windows and curtains close, he wondered about the Prince again, if he had fallen asleep yet, or whether he was nervous about tomorrow’s district hall meeting. It was a day held promptly the beginning of each month where regular members of the district came together to ask questions from their crowned royalties. If it were Changbin, he would surely be pacing up and down his room, planning his grand escape. But Felix didn’t seem nervous at all; even happy about meeting and socializing with the people of the district. Changbin thought that a trait like that made him fit for the role and fame of a prince all the more.

***

In light of his promise the night before, Changbin greeted the Prince bright and early the morning of the next day while Felix was eating his breakfast in bed. He watched the Prince almost spill the entire content of his breakfast tray over while trying to stand up to greet Changbin back. His cheeks were full of food, lips glistening from honey smeared all over his toast.

Changbin flinched to himself at the sight, the memory of the thick sugary syrup from his childhood days coating his throat when he was sick, his mother having made him eat a few spoonfuls of it, now leaving him in shudders. But the Prince didn’t look sick, more to the contrary, he looked _great_ , Changbin just couldn’t imagine someone eating honey out of pleasure.

Ironically then, his chest heaved as a cough made its way through his throat starting from the pits of his lungs, probably from finishing the other half of his cigarette earlier that morning. Felix darted his eyes toward him, eyebrows raised high and eyes wide open, with the tip of his thumb still hidden inside his mouth as he was in the middle of licking off the honey stuck to it, which only made Changbin choke on the air, or lack thereof, all the more.

“Maybe you should have some honey to disinfect your throat.” Felix suggested, kindly offering the bodyguard an untouched slice.

Changbin looked at the honey dripping down the edges of the toast, and felt himself shudder all over again.

“There’s no need, but thank you.” He declined with a forced smile.

Felix just shrugged his shoulders at that, finishing his breakfast while listening to the cheerful singing of the birds sitting by their window, small wings flapping and then disappearing between the gardenias blooming vividly in the hanging balcony pots.

Changbin felt very out of place, so used to crawling through mud and living in barracks for six years in the military, to living in basements and sleeping on trains while protecting his other clients, living by the night and dark, that just standing here under the gentle rays of the sun, listening to the chirping of the birds was absurd. It felt like a sterilized, pure reality perfectly incubating and eternally sheltering his Prince. But Changbin was the dark soil from which all flowers bloomed, the centering silence in a boisterous, royal crowd, the smoke in the air sanitized of life.

“Help me get up, please.” Felix muttered with a toothy grin, clasping his hands toward Changbin to take them. The bodyguard complied with a quirked eyebrow upon registering the call, intertwining their fingers so he could pull Felix up.

In the midst of almost having the young Prince fall over into his arms at the strength of the exertion, since the Prince’s body moved as if it had no bones, molding and melting however which way Changbin tried to balance him, Changbin couldn’t help but note how soft Felix’s skin was, and how small his hands were. In contrast, to the observant eye, the bodyguard’s palms were covered in calluses from years of weapon wielding, and could easily engulf the Prince’s hands between his. It must be unusual for the Prince, too, to have a man with hands that could kill hold him so sweetly.

Felix bashfully tittered at his own clumsiness from nearly falling over, before walking to his bathroom, washing up so Changbin could get to work with his makeup. Changbin’s eyes followed his every step, pieces of his mind scattering along the Prince’s walk. He was always so alert and present, but the dawn of this new day found Changbin drowsy and dreamy, with his head up in the clouds.

It didn’t help that he had no idea what he will have to do. He sometimes used makeup for disguise, but he was certainly never asked to do someone else’s, let alone for an event as serious as a district hall meeting. He couldn’t understand, yet again, why Felix would insist on having Changbin do it. Changbin was sure the Prince could go a little more light handed with the foundation and powder on his own, or request the assistance of a maid, since all of them were constantly so eager to help the Prince out; it was a mystery why he wanted Changbin all up in his face, looking like an idiot.

But as the Prince’s confidant, he wanted Felix to feel comfortable with him, and if Felix wanted him to do his makeup, then it was Changbin’s job to comply.

Felix came back from the bathroom in nothing but a light pink robe, as silky as his pillows, tied together so loosely as to reveal his collarbones. It looked fancy for a casual gown - why would Felix dress up like that when it was only them and the birds in the room? But Changbin had been told that one of Felix’s most beloved pastimes was shopping and fashion, so perhaps upon further contemplation, it made sense that he always appeared effortlessly stylish. What didn’t make sense to Changbin was the way his own lips parted involuntarily; he kept feeling out of breath.

He watched the Prince take a seat in front of him, suddenly an entire head shorter, providing Changbin the perfect angle for the sunshine to illuminate his face without the need for vanity lights.

Changbin observed how the warm, yellow glow escaping through the white curtains turned Felix’s eyes into the color of whiskey, into the color of those sparks his lighter spit out when he was about to have a cigarette, and it was weird to see his bad habits reflected in a pair of innocent eyes, as if Felix was some kind of distorted mirror held up in front of Changbin, something and someone so beautiful reminding him of the ugliest bits of himself.

Under this natural light, everything looked gold on Felix - his hair, his skin, eyes, and freckles. If Changbin didn’t know better, he would have thought Felix was a part of this palace like the pillars holding up the roof, the pilasters carved away from the walls; maybe Felix was what made this room look so elegant by being its centerpiece. No wonder the rest of the palace felt hollow.

“I’ve never done makeup on someone else before.” Changbin muttered, clearing his throat that seemed to have dried on him once again. _He should really cut back on smoking_ , he began to think.

“We have plenty of time. Feel free to just experiment.” Felix replied, sighing deeply when he felt Changbin’s fingers tilt his head to the side so the man could study his features.

If it wasn’t all those years of martial arts, Changbin was sure he would have struggled to keep his arms steady when he placed his hand under Felix’s chin, beginning to apply the cushion foundation all over the boy’s forehead.

Felix closed his eyes at the soft, familiar feeling, a content smile lingering on his lips. Changbin wondered if Felix always closed his eyes like that when he applied his own makeup, if he always sighed so often and so deeply. The only time Felix seemed to open his eyes was when Changbin moved his hand away to put more foundation onto the sponge, and they would instantly search for Changbin’s, all droopy and earnest. Changbin refused to look back at him, but he could feel his Prince’s gaze - felt it _soothe_ him, felt it _burn_ all the same.

  
Once he was done setting his work with a matching powder, he asked Felix to look at himself in the mirror, and was sad to see the boy’s eyes race all over the freckles peeking through the thin coverage.

“It’s almost like I’m not wearing any.” He complained with a small frown.

“That’s the point.” Changbin replied, gently turning the Prince’s head back from the mirror, making Felix blush as dark as his bedsheets. Changbin let himself admire the color for just a second more before asking Felix to close his eyes again so he could apply the eyeshadow next.

“What shade should I use?” The bodyguard sung, holding the brush between his fingers like he held his cigarette, drawing lines and shapes into the air over the Prince’s closed eyelids for practice.

Felix remained wordless for a moment, reminding Changbin of the birds still serenading the sun, and when he spoke, it was only but a shy whisper, light enough to have the meekest summer wind blow it away.

“Anything you want.”

A wave of something peculiar washed over Changbin at the Prince’s words, his heart beating with the speed horses trot through a free rein; the way he felt before putting on his military uniform. Yet he was not about to go to battle, so where did all this adrenaline come from trying to burst his veins open?

“Shouldn’t it match your garment for the night?” He asked instead, tracing his fingers over all the colorful palettes displayed on the vanity, each sparklier than the last.

“The maids will pick something around the makeup. The choice is all yours.”

Changbin hummed in response, wallowing in this new sense of power gifted to him by the Prince, before picking a light, shimmering pink to match Felix’s cheeks and gown.

He swept the tiny glitters onto Felix’s eyelids, smudging it all over, his hap-hazardous technique a telltale of his inexperience, but thankfully the Prince could pull off any mistake and make them look intentional. Such was the nature of the Prince’s beauty; boundless and forgiving.

He decided not to add anything else to the look other than some tinted chapstick, but when he handed the lip balm over to Felix so he could put it on himself, the Prince insisted that Changbin do it.

“You’ve been doing so well,” Felix reasoned, “You can’t just leave a work unfinished. The lips are important, too!”

So the bodyguard muffled his growl with a sigh, his shoulders visibly tensed as he rolled the chapstick from one end of Felix’s lower lip to the other, watching the sensitive skin being dragged along with the movement by the sticky wax balm. He was so close to the Prince’s face, all he could smell was honey, honey in his nostrils, honey in his throat and head, despite the abundance of flowers and cologne-soaked, pining love letters littered all over the room, addressed to the young Prince by brash courtiers.

All unopened, swept into the corners as if the Prince didn’t even care, but he surely had to. Getting married was around the corner, yet Felix looked like he was in anything but a rush.

In the same spirit, Changbin hurriedly finished his work, asking Felix to check the results again for good measure.

“You made me so pretty.” The Prince said, voice perked of glee, even though he didn’t actually bother to take a look.

The bodyguard could have made him look like a clown, and Felix would have still said that Changbin did an exceptional job. Changbin noticed that, too, and found it strange, but not enough to openly object to it.

The bodyguard swallowed what he was about to say, about how beautiful the Prince was without ever needing anyone’s input, but felt uncomfortable saying something of that nature just now. It would only make the Prince uncomfortable, too, _wouldn’t it_? Changbin had to appear professional and reserved, he couldn’t act the same as the courtiers, since he was not a contestant for Felix’s hand. He never could be, never even thought of wanting to be. And one fine day, there shall be an intricate gold ring adorning the Prince’s finger, and that will be the day Changbin’s job will be done here. His time was finite at the royal residency; he shall take no prisoners; and should not act like anything more or less than a temporary, devoted bodyguard.

“It will be easy to dress you around this look. It’s very subtle.” He eventually replied.

“You did a great job.” Felix repeated quietly, his cheeks still rosy under the foundation, perhaps even more so than before. “You should do my makeup more often.”

“Maybe on another special occasion.” Changbin said, leaving the Prince to his own as a group of maids rushed in at the noisy chime of the pendulum striking eight o’clock on the wall, bringing along all kinds of clothing for the townhall night thrown over their shoulders.

**2.**

Although Changbin made the promise with only half of his heart in it, that special occasion did come around a few months later.

Decor for the yearly ballroom night was plastered everywhere around the palace; an event held every autumn when all the princes and princesses of the nearby districts come together to strengthen their allies.

The dance was to be held in the largest room of the mansion specifically designed for large-scale communal events. The kitchen was right next door, allowing for the expeditious serving of lunch and dinner for the guests. The floor was marble from beginning to the end, much like the stairways, the walls full of noble portraits, all the world’s crystals hanging off the ceiling around blazing sources of light.

Short on leisure time, Changbin hadn’t had the chance to see the room until the day before, during which the Prince was pulling on his arms past their bedtime, like he often did, trying to lure Changbin to talk through the night with him.

“Tomorrow will a busy day, you must get enough sleep!” The bodyguard chided.

“But I want to practice my moves!”.

“You will have plenty of time to practice them _tomorrow_.”

“You haven’t even seen the room yet!” The Prince insisted, weaving his fingers around the ruffled fabric of Changbin’s blouse where the buttons lined up. “Let me just show you the room. No one is in there now.”

“ _Felix_.”

“Pretty please? Dance with me for a few minutes, there’s no better time to practice than at night!”

“That makes no sense, my Prince.”

“Yes it does!” The boy objected, daring to gaze at Changbin with a look of pure mischief.

“You are nothing but trouble.” Changbin whispered, glancing around the hallway as if someone could hear them.

Felix wrapped his arms around Changbin’s waist, spinning them toward the direction of the dance hall without even confirming whether Changbin meant the latter comment as a _yes_.

And what could a dutiful bodyguard do but to follow his Prince’s lead, and hope for the best?

“Only for a few minutes, Felix. I’m serious!” Changbin grumbled, making him look just like the old man he felt he was on the inside. Especially now, losing count of the number of rules they were breaking.

 _Curfew for the Prince by 11PM._  
  
_No wandering around the palace without informing security._  
  
_No using of the ballroom immediately before or after an event has been booked._  
  
_All bodyguards must --_

“Look at all this space!” Felix cheered with his fingers still tightly laced around Changbin’s despite having reached their destination. The call brought Changbin back to reality with a gasp at the enormous space stretched across in front of them.

The Prince instantly turned around, excitement written all across his face. Changbin felt himself melt, unable to hold back a grin as his eyes traced over Felix’s pearly smile, the same he had noted during their first encounter in the lobby. And now, under this orange glow of the ceiling lights, the boy looked like _honey_ , a delicate treat wrapped in thin silk, candy for the hungriest of eyes.

Changbin, too caught in the moment, appeared as lost as he felt, prompting Felix to ask whether this was his first time dancing.

“No, I’ve just never had to sneak out with a prince before in the middle of the night to practice his moves with him.” He snarled back, perspiration forming on his temples and palms as he took a step toward the Prince.

Felix felt himself shiver at the commanding tone, impatiently waiting for Changbin to wrap his arms around him as required by the dance. Fortunately, Changbin wasted no more time to pull Felix against himself with a sweeping tug, resulting in a gasp from the younger. The Prince‘s eyes flicked back and forth on his face, plump, forever rubescent lips parted ever so slightly as his arms found their place around Changbin’s neck.

The bodyguard was leading them in circles, two steps to the right, two to the left, back toward one wall, then forward to the other, spinning and turning the Prince over and over until Felix got so dizzy, he had no choice but to cling onto Changbin even more than he already did.

Despite how gently, almost fearfully, Changbin was holding the Prince, Felix could feel the warmth of the man’s fingertips through his thin nightgown, as if Changbin’s hands were actually on his bare skin. But all Changbin could feel was silk upon silk, fireworks booming and dying in his chest, feeling like he was standing on quicksand swallowing them whole, recklessly dancing at this hour of the day, with the barefooted Prince helplessly and joyfully molding to his speedy rhythm, the echoes of his shoes clattering against the marble being the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Perhaps it could all be chalked up to being a dream, maybe if a passerby was to see them, he would think it was only two ghosts haunting the palace, dancing to their heart's’ content, for no one could see them.

But the danger of getting caught was very much real and pressing; because in a way, Changbin was breaching his duty.

“We should leave now.” The bodyguard whispered, looking at the door nervously, a glance here and there after each twirl in the silence, just waiting for the unexpected to happen, of someone bursting through and getting the Prince in trouble. But Felix didn’t share that sentiment, more like the opposite,

“Are you not having fun?” He whimpered, voice heavy of gloom, with his head tilted down, Bambi eyes ruthlessly cutting Changbin to bits.

Changbin had been stabbed before more times than he could count, but even the sensation of his blood gushing out of his torn flesh felt better than what hit him whenever Felix used those puppy eyes on him.

“I’m just worried, my Prince. I feel apprehensive about breaking the rules.”

“But it’s not because of me, right? If not for those rules, you wouldn’t mind dancing with me?” Felix asked, pupils blown wide with desperation, lips gaping for Changbin’s reassuring words.

“I would not mind at all.” Changbin replied, an anything but discreet sigh of relief leaving his mouth at the spirit instantly returning to Felix’s eyes upon his answer.

The Prince had no trouble letting the bodyguard lead the way out of the ballroom afterwards, with the condition that Changbin hold his hand along the way, as if Changbin would ever leave him behind.

The hallway felt endless on the way back, and so did time whenever Changbin was holding the Prince in some way. Felix loved to coil himself around Changbin, like iron and magnet, while Changbin tried to repel the affection, but all in vain. He never had a client this affectionate and this in need of physical contact, or kind words; it pushed Changbin to the boundaries of his element.

Even now, the bodyguard was more than ready to wave goodnight upon reaching the Prince’s bedroom, but when he saw Felix sheepishly gaze down at the floor instead of going for the doorknob straight away, he knew the night was far from over.

“I know that it was a long time ago, but you said that you would do my makeup for another special occasion,” Felix begun, looking at Changbin from behind his lashes, and Changbin wanted to hiss at the persistent pain all over his body whenever his Prince talked to him with that fabricated innocence. Felix knew _exactly_ what he was doing, and strategically paused, waiting for Changbin to remember back to the promise he made, waiting patiently until the bodyguard felt uncomfortable in the silence, and it worked _everytime_.

“Yes…” Changbin cautiously agreed, already knowing all-too-well the direction this way heading. “I remember saying that.”

“And wouldn’t you say that tomorrow counts as a special occasion?” Felix pouted, clearly trying to hold back a smirk.

“I would have to say that it does.” The bodyguard admitted, thinking that the look of defeat in his eyes would be enough of an answer, but Felix continued to stare at him expectantly, until Changbin fully said it. “I will do your makeup tomorrow.”

Felix grinned triumphantly at that, finally permitting Changbin to retreat into his room.

Once inside, the bodyguard pushed the windows open while eagerly lighting a cigarette; he never needed a smoke this badly before; he practically threw himself over the window sill for stability. The roll of tobacco was shaking where it was held between his index and middle finger, even the moonlight felt impossibly warm on his paled skin. He felt completely drained, clueless as to why holding the Prince in his arms would consume so much of him. It was beyond physically possible to feel so exhausted and out of breath from the smallest and simplest contact. He must have caught some kind of flu, which would explain why his cheeks were feverishly burning in the dead of the night.

**3.**

Changbin didn’t think a space as huge as the ballroom could be filled with people, but he was soon proven otherwise upon his arrival with the Prince. The echo from yesterday’s emptiness was gone from all the newly added furniture like tables and chairs lined up against the walls, the chorus of cello, double bass, and clarinets softly playing in the background of people’s chattering. The only space unoccupied was the middle of the room reserved for the next hour of waltzing.

Although the only thing on Felix’s mind was to dance with a _special someone_ , as the host of the party, he was required to attend to the visitors including all the men and women trying to buzz around him like flies. Each showered him in more compliments than the last, using any excuse they could come up with to breathe the same air as him, to touch him, some people pretended that they forgot shaking hands with him just a minute ago so they could hold his hand for a second time. Changbin rolled his eyes at the pathetic sea of courtiers, disillusioned by the classless attempts to seduce Felix. Changbin knew Felix better than any of these people, Changbin knew that Felix didn’t care for gifts like jewelry, that his Prince hated when people bowed in front of him. Changbin loathed the pool of men and women unaccustomed to Felix’s lively and youthful nature, making the boy uncomfortable by calling him “cute” in front of other serious royalties.

At one point, another prince came to hug Felix for so long, that Changbin had to pry the man off himself. Felix immediately scooted to the bodyguard’s side afterwards, pleading for Changbin to hold his hand so no more courtiers would approach him.

It made Changbin feel like a king, having Felix lean and curl against him while the courtiers sighed in exasperation, unable to make eye contact with the Prince for Felix was too occupied clinging to him, sipping on a slim glass of strawberry champagne.

During this hour, Felix introduced him to some of the princes he was closest with, such as Prince Chan from District 1, whom Changbin immediately befriended; the newly crowned prince of District 4, Jeongin, the mightiest young prince Changbin had ever encountered, and Prince Hyunjin of District 8, one of the most popular princes among the great districts.

Hyunjin was tall, with soft eyes lingering on Changbin’s lips and shoulders, and an attractive smile, attractive enough to make the trays perched on the waiters’ palms visibly tremble. He laughed it off, albeit with a blush on his cheeks, nonchalantly walking back and forth between the numerous clusters of people.

Time flew by fast; the start of the waltz came about in no time with all the introductions and warding off courtiers. Out of thin air upon the announcement, Prince Hyunjin walked across the ballroom of flaring skirts and dress coats back toward Felix and Changbin with a smile, or smirk, Changbin couldn’t tell as he was too shocked by the way Hyunjin pried Changbin’s crossed arms open and pulled him toward the dance floor.

“Excuse me, Prince Hyunj-”

“This is one of my favorite songs.” Hyunjin said in the rise of a cello note, cutting Changbin off with something equally unfitting when the bodyguard tried to object.

“But Prince Hyunjin, I have to stand beside Prince Felix at all times, I must not -”

“Look!” Hyunjin sighed, turning Changbin around so he was facing Felix. “He is right there, perfectly fine between Chan and Jeongin. You can see him bright and clear whenever you turn around” He said, directing Changbin’s arms around his waist, gently tilting the man’s head back toward himself.

Changbin stared into Hyunjin’s eyes stunned beyond words, hurriedly rotating themselves with a swift spin so he was facing his Prince once again.

“What a firm grip you’ve got!” Hyunjin noted as Changbin’s grip anxiously tightened on his waist. He curiously traced over Changbin’s features with his eyes, slowly sliding his hands up to hook them around the man’s shoulders, feeling the muscles flex nervously in the process.

The bodyguard gulped, trying to take stolen glances toward Felix whenever Hyunjin looked away to wave at someone greeting them. Felix was still chatting with the others, probably under the assumption that Changbin had gone to the bathroom, so the bodyguard tried to calm down, knowing that his Prince was still safe and having fun.

He looked back at Hyunjin just in time to see him lean closer, _alarmingly_ close, their noses just a breath away from touching.

“Your jawline looks very sharp. It gives you a uniquely handsome face.” Hyunjin whispered, sheepishly glancing away from Changbin’s surprised gaze before glancing right back, searching for his reaction.

“I’ve been told I could cut with my chin and jawline, they are so sharp.” He replied, delighted when he saw Prince Hyunjin giggle boyishly at him, his curled fringe almost falling into his eyes, so Changbin reached up to carefully smooth it back in place out of thoughtless courtesy. He seldom felt this daring with his own Prince, always so nervous about making a wrong move.

He could see Hyunjin’s breath hitching and his cheeks reddening at the touch, before he tried pulling Changbin even closer, if not for the bodyguard’s firm hold stopping him.

“I would love for you to visit my district.” Hyunjin breathed onto Changbin’s lips as they led each other further and further into the crowd of dancing couples. “It’s only fitting that you get to see how safe other districts are in case Felix would visit them.”

“I-I don’t think that would be feasible, Prince Hyunjin.”

“Why not?” The prince taunted, almost stepping onto Changbin’s toes in eagerness. “Felix and I are friends, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you get to know his friends better.”

Their dance was starting to fall out of rhythm, spinning exactly when the other couples stopped, and stopping when it was time to spin. The discrepancy eventually caught the corners of Felix’s eyes, and he turned away from his company in time to catch a glimpse of Changbin dancing with Hyunjin between two strangers’ shoulders before another couple obstructed the view.

Almost everyone’s eyes averted from their partner’s when a sudden, violent shuttering of glass could be heard - Changbin looked in the direction of the noise, finding a glass of pink champagne, like what Felix was drinking, spilled all over the checkered marble tiles, with Prince Felix nowhere to be found.

Changbin hurriedly left Hyunjin’s side despite the other’s protesting, weaving through the shifting mass of bodies toward Prince Chan.

“I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know where he went. It was probably just an accident.” Chan tried to assure Changbin, who was anxiously running a hand through his black locks, looking every which way he could, searching for any clue as to where his Felix could have disappeared.

He knew him well. He could guess where he went, had he understood what happened. Chan had to be right, it could be nothing other than an accident, which meant that the Prince was probably in the bathroom cleaning himself up of any spilled champagne. But when he peeked into every single bathroom on their floor, which there was enough of to have Changbin panting and mildly out of breath, his next guess had to be Felix’s bedroom, since the Prince must have decided it was better to change his outfit altogether. Much to his misfortune, he didn’t have any better luck there, either.

Changbin was losing his calm, cursing himself to hell and back for losing sight of Felix. He had no excuses other than trying to be polite toward Felix’s friends, Prince Hyunjin being a key ally for District 9, but Changbin won’t be so friendly next time - _if there will be a next time_. He wouldn’t blame the Prince if he decided to fire him after this.

He defeatedly walked back to the ballroom, hoping to find his Prince there, which was indeed the case, looking very disheveled, and still stained of champagne. He looked like he was dragged back against his will, and his eyes had that dark, frustrated gaze to them, teary everytime he was angry. Changbin sneaked his way through the crowd to stand beside him, reaching for Felix’s hands to hold like he knew his Prince loved.

This time however, the Prince just stared at him with a blank expression, and although he accepted Changbin’s hand, he didn’t squeeze it back gleefully like he always did.

“Is everything alright, Felix? I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

Thankfully, the people seemed to have forgotten about the little incident, and there were no more traces of broken glass or strawberry champagne around, except a few, tiny splashes on the bottom of Felix’s pants. Prince Hyunjin was already dancing with someone else, his eyes fixated on his new partner.

“Yes, everything is fine.” Felix said, monotone, his lips twitching up into a smile. But Changbin knew it couldn’t be a genuine one, because the corners’ of his eyes always wrinkled up when that was the case, and this time, compared to the rest of his face, Felix’s smile looked odd.

“My Prince, forgive me if I don’t believe that.” Changbin quipped, but Felix just shook his head in reply, his eyes idly following the flux of the busy ballroom.

“You can go back to dancing with Prince Hyunjin now.” The Prince retorted and Changbin’s face went _pale_.

“Felix, you must know that I was asked by him to -”

“I know Changbin. He was sure to let me know while you were gone.”

Changbin wanted to say more, _ask more_ , ask where Felix went, why he looked hurt, what Hyunjin had said to him, and many more, but could tell that even if he were to talk, Felix wouldn’t be listening. He had long lost focus.

So the bodyguard stood there, his fingers still awkwardly wrapped around the Prince’s, unwilling to let them go, _afraid to_. He couldn’t understand what happened to his Prince; perhaps he got scolded for dropping that glass of champagne, but then again, who would chastise none other than the Prince of District 9, for a small accident that everyone already seemed to have forgotten about?

Changbin decided not to dig his nose into things he wasn’t welcomed to, especially for Felix’s sake, who looked like he was made of stone the way he stood there motionlessly for minutes. His usually lively and bubbly Prince behaved too old for his age, too bitter, and Changbin could feel his heart painfully seize at the thought. Changbin was supposed to be the old and bitter one, not the Prince of gold, flowers, and honey, his silly and giggly Felix.

There were so many courtiers hot in their shoes, motioning for Felix to join them on the dancefloor for the waltz, but the Prince declined every single offer. Didn’t Felix want to dance? Wouldn’t that cheer him up? Changbin could clearly recall the Prince saying that he would love to dance with someone if given the time.

Changbin eventually eased his hold on the boy’s hand, letting the Prince enjoy some space, since perhaps he was distraught by something he heard other people talk about, and had enough socializing for the day. But just as Changbin was about to completely let go, Felix reached after his hand without a word, looking at him the way he looked at the maids when he didn’t want to get out of bed in the morning, the way he looked at his dessert cup with no honey left in it, wishing that there was more. Changbin had a hard time interpreting that look in Felix’s eyes with their current situation in mind, since why would Felix look at him so longingly? _Changbin was right here._

His eyes were still damp with something, a few wet lashes sticking together, and hair that was flawlessly quiffed in the beginning of the night by now undone. The lipstick Changbin so painstakingly put on his lips was bitten away, revealing chapped and scarred skin that was smooth and glossy when Changbin touched it in the morning. Brown eyeliner was smudged, eyeshadow worn down, and spots of freckles exposed where the the Prince had either washed his face or wiped his tears away. But everyone else seemed to be doing fine from what Changbin could gather, so who could have said something so harrowing to the Prince as to have him tear up?

Despite all the people who had approached them to converse with the Prince, no one seemed to be aware of Felix’s fatigued state. And it didn’t help that the boy was unwilling to leave Changbin’s side for the rest of the night, demanding that if someone wanted to talk with him, they had come to them instead. It made Changbin wonder whether _Felix_ was actually guarding _him_ , and not the other way around.

** 4. **

One of the hardest days of Changbin’s job as Felix’s confidant came about three weeks after the ballroom night, on which day the Prince got coaxed into having a date with Prince Chan by his parents once Chan’s invitation hit their mailbox. Since Chan and Felix had been childhood friends, and Felix was under constant pressure to start going on dates, he agreed, on the account that if he must go with someone other than Changbin, he would rather go on a date with a person he cared about. But Prince Chan didn’t know that, and neither did Changbin, so when Chan showed up at the palace with a hundred and one cherry red roses, and Changbin saw Felix’s eyes lit up in surprise, he felt the churning of his stomach so hard, he was certain he would throw up at some point during the evening.

That was the day Changbin realized that he felt something for the Prince he was not supposed to, whatever that feeling was. Changbin was in denial as deep as the oceans and rivers separating the districts, as deep as he imaged his grave would be one day if he continued to smoke this much over his heartache.

Every time Chan would shyly wrap his arms around Felix’s shoulders as they sat on the benches of the royal garden, laughing at memories Changbin was foreign to, the bodyguard felt that churning of his stomach over and over again. He felt it when Felix leaned his head on the other prince’s shoulder, he felt it when Chan asked Felix if he could kiss him on the cheek and Felix had no objections. To Felix’s excuse, he didn’t know that Changbin was watching, since the man was gazing down on them from the balcony, and Felix didn’t look at the date in a romantic way, more so as two friends killing time.

But Prince Chan was very much serious about asking for Felix’s hand one day, to perhaps develop their friendship into something more over time. And as hurt as Changbin was at seeing Felix enjoy the attention and love of somebody else, he couldn’t blame either of the princes.

The roses Chan gave Felix seemed to want to last forever; Changbin waited for them every day peeking into Felix’s room to wither away, as if that would mean something, as if that would comfort Changbin in some mysterious way, but they remained plump and vibrant for over a week, and Changbin could smell the petals everytime he walked by.

Petals and honey - it was way better than coughing at the cigarette smoke culminating in Changbin’s room. Smoke and honey just didn’t pair that well.

 

“What should I wear for my date tomorrow?” Felix asked him the night those roses finally got thrown out, pulling Changbin into his room against the bodyguard’s will, as usual.

“It is up to you, Prince.” Changbin mumbled with his arms crossed, watching Felix twirl in his nightgown with a pair of dress pants and blouse held in front of him.

“But I would like to know what you find attractive on me.” The Prince stated, throwing all sorts of garments toward Changbin as he pulled them out of his closet one by one.

“Since you are meeting Prince Jeongin, shouldn’t you keep _his_ taste in mind?”

“It doesn’t matter what Jeongin likes! He is just a friend.” Felix replied nonchalantly, frowning as he threw a shirt deemed ugly back into the closet.

“Then why would you go on a date with him?”

“Because I have to out of courtesy and friendship. I would rather look good for _you_. So tell me, which of these do you like more?”

Changbin knit his eyebrows together, perplexed over his Prince’s explanation. But he shrugged it off; perhaps Felix was already keen on marrying Chan, and as Chan and the bodyguard got along well when Changbin put aside his conflicting emotions, maybe Felix was asking for Changbin’s opinion in the hopes that it was similar to the other prince’s.

So the bodyguard sighed wearily, squinting his eyes in judgment over the pastel pink turtleneck and white pullover Felix was holding up.

“You look good in everything, it honestly doesn’t matter.” Changbin eventually said, much to Felix’s dissatisfaction.

“Oh, come on! I have darker colors, too. Would you like to see those? Let me look for some!”

Changbin didn’t think Prince Chan would like darker colors, that was more so the bodyguard’s aesthetic, both for professional and personal reasons. Black was a color of new beginnings when all roads lead to an end; it was elegant, yet simple, mysterious but also versatile.

It was also great for covering up cigarette stains.

Yet when Felix appeared in a black top hanging completely off-the-shoulder by design, it felt like a hurricane had swept Changbin off his feet. Black had never looked this stunning.

The Prince’s shoulders were sprinkled with the same freckles as those gracing his nose and cheeks, and the garment accentuated Felix’s already long neck even more, making Changbin wish he could glide his hands over every inch of exposed skin, just to see if Felix was real or a figment of Changbin’s wildest dreams.

“Do you like it?” The Prince asked, voice quiet and nervous from a heart eager to please.

Changbin was sure his voice would fail him if he were to try and speak, so he resorted to a nod instead, jaws clenched shut from the tensions straining his body.

But Felix thought that the bodyguard looked _unimpressed_ from the way he was glancing anywhere but at the Prince, perhaps Felix’s outfit was too boring or tasteless for a man as serious and refined as Changbin. _If Changbin had liked the outfit, wouldn’t he be unable to take his eyes off him?_

Felix ended up defeatedly changing back into his robe, leaving the choice of his outfit up to the maids. If not even his darkest, most revealing shirt could impress Changbin, then there was no use to continue trying.

** 5. **

The more days went by, the less space Felix had left under his bed as he kept stuffing it with the relentless arrival of new gifts and love letters, until they were barely hidden by the bedskirt. It looked like the entire structure will explode in a flood one day, drowning the palace in broken hearts. Felix’s parents asked Changbin to talk to their son, convince him to start sorting through the proposals, since everyone except Changbin had noticed the effect he had on the Prince. But that was the one thing Felix remained adamant about. He left his dates early, clinging to Changbin on the way back home. He called most of them off, rather quarantined in his room with a thermometer in his mouth, saying that he was too sick to go.

His parents had no choice but to contact the people who they thought Felix would like and invite them to their palace, having given up on Felix doing that himself.

Because there were too many men and women to pick from, his parents invited _plenty_ , hosting several dinner receptions in the ballroom, one for almost every single day, and they were not even halfway through the list.

This time, the ballroom was set up only for eating and talking, with just enough optional space reserved for dancing in case Felix would want to, even though he made it clear over a loud and tear-filled fight the day before that he did not want any of this, and will _certainly_ not dance.

The dinner tables seemed like endless slabs of white table cloth, plates upon plates of food covered with silver lids as far as the eyes could see. Changbin observed the courtiers; all beautiful, young, established and wealthy, dressed to impress. Changbin found it funny how he didn’t belong, in his all-black and plain suit yet he was the only one the Prince allowed near himself. Only Changbin could sit next to him, or touch him in any way. Changbin made sure of that, too, swatting away every arm and finger that tried to initiate contact with Felix. A part of him did it out of duty, and the other out of haunting jealousy.

Felix kept poking at his food instead of eating, sighing exhaustedly under his breath, more occupied with looking up at Changbin longingly from his plate, who was too busy to notice in the midst of stuffing his face, all the while warding off a sea of curious fingers.

Just as Changbin was in the middle of swallowing a bite of his chicken, he felt a hand, _Felix’s hand_ , reach after his under the table and squeeze it. Changbin knew it meant that the Prince wanted to talk to him in private, so he immediately wiped his face with a napkin and quietly excused themselves from the reception.

He pulled them into the kitchen that was by then empty of all cooks, everyone having gone to a separate dining space reserved for members of the staff. There was much cleaning up to do as the counters were covered in flour and bits of vegetable scraps, the sink already filled to the brim with unwashed dishes.

Felix leaned against one of the flour-covered counters, much to Changbin’s dismay, who didn’t want the Prince to get his clothes dirty on a date.

“Is there something wrong, Felix? You signaled that --”

“I know. I know...There was nothing wrong. I was just bored.”

The bodyguard’s eyes widened in disbelief. Such an excuse from a royalty was _unheard of_.

“Then I guess you also know that it is a signal to be used _sparingly_. I’m sure there had to be a better reason.”

Felix casted his gaze down, the floor suddenly a hundred times more interesting.

Changbin groaned, mildly frustrated that Felix had used a sign reserved for emergencies because he was “bored.” Felix didn’t have to tell his bodyguard _everything_ under the sun, but he did have to tell Changbin things that could affect his safety, and it was becoming painfully obvious that he was holding back important information. Felix was not an irresponsible prince, there had to be a good reason he resorted to the signal.

“You’ve been acting up lately, calling off dates one after the other because of being sick. _What is going on?_ Are you not feeling well? You know that you can tell me. Did one of the guests bother you?”

“I don’t want any of them.” Was all the Prince said, blinking up at Changbin through eyes bulging with tears, lonely fingers curling around Changbin’s for company.

The bodyguard sighed in sympathy at the wistful touch, thinking that he got the issue figured out.

“I know that marriage may sound intimidating, but -”

“No!” Felix whined, bringing their interlocked hands up to his chest, to the spot where his heart was fitfully beating for Changbin. “I don’t mind the marriage. My problem is with _who_ I’m supposed to marry.”

“My Prince,” Changbin began softly, and Felix helplessly shivered everytime Changbin called him _his_ , with every piece of himself aching to belong. “You don’t have to marry any of these men or women at the table. The choice is all yours. There are plenty more and even better coming. I’ve been getting hundreds of documents to sort over, filled with faces to memorize who all want to approach you in the upcoming days. You have more options than there are stars in the sky.”

Changbin didn’t understand why that seemed to make Felix worse off.

“Don’t you understand, Changbin...” Felix whispered, tilting his head so he could be closer to the man’s ear. “I don’t want _any_ of them. I already know who I want.”

The bodyguard both hated and loved how Felix’s voice sounded against his ear. It was heavy enough to almost make Changbin’s lids flutter close; and it made him feel as bittersweet as puffing a cigarette behind closed doors, knowing that he enjoyed something forbidden. This moment felt forbidden, too.

“Great!” He eventually rejoiced, distancing himself enough to congratulate Felix. “Why haven’t you told me sooner? Now it all makes _perfect_ sense! Then I can help your family call off all those dates, and we can peacefully end tonight’s reception.” He babbled on, faster than he wanted to; in a rush for some reason, like someone was pushing him to walk in a direction he didn’t want to.

Felix let out a broken sigh, swallowing his tears as his hands retreated from Changbin.

“Why are you sad my Prince? These are amazing news!” Changbin exclaimed, his own voice unusually obnoxious.

He felt like he wasn’t speaking from his heart.

 _“Because he doesn’t want me_.” Felix muttered, almost collapsing against the counter before Changbin caught him, the very safety net that made him want to fall. The Prince laced his arm around the man keeping him upright, muffling the series of sobs spilling out of him into the crook of his neck.

This wasn’t going the way Felix imagined it would - he thought Changbin would get the hint after all this time, happy to make a move now, starving to have the Prince all to himself. Here he stood, lost in Changbin’s arms, telling him all about the ways he didn’t care for any of the people fighting for his hand, because he was already in love, madly and foolishly. Ever since the event started, he had been imagining Changbin picking him up and sitting him on these dirty counters, kissing him until the reception was over, or even better, tell off all the men and women sitting at the dinner table, showing them that Felix will forever belong to him. But Changbin appeared cold and disinterested, speaking fast so he could get Felix’s complaints over with, only the warmth of his body comforting Felix in his heartache.

Meanwhile, Changbin was squeezing his eyes shut, confused at the pain pulsing in his own chest, the Prince’s suffering weighing down on him in equal measure. Only a person incapable of love would not fall for Felix; to see Felix was to love him, as inevitable as love itself, at least once in a lifetime.

“What do you mean by that? Who could ever say no to you?” He asked in a strained voice.

Felix wailed at the hypothetical question, murmuring something into Changbin’s skin that the bodyguard couldn’t understand.

“I will convince him, don’t worry.” Changbin assured, petting Felix’s head with the gentleness he would touch a petal, and Felix sobbed into that touch, at that exact gentleness and the pain it caused.

“ _C-Changbin_.” He chanted tirelessly, leaning away infuriated that the bodyguard still hadn’t figured _it_ out. How could a man this intelligent and calculating be so blind to love, the brightest and most contagious flame in the world?

That was when Changbin began to suspect, the possibility vaguely and tentatively dawning on him, the weight of the recognition crushing him - when he could feel Felix’s hands on his face, delicate thumbs smoothing over his cheeks like a lover would. It was a touch that was out of place, a look in his eyes too intimate.

Could the Prince be in love with _him_?

But Felix didn’t say _it_ , and Changbin didn’t dare to ask.

** 6. **

The afternoon at the reception ended when one of the maids bursted through the doors in search of the Prince, finding him enveloped between Changbin’s arms. Felix winced, pretending that he was in pain, asking Changbin if he could carry him upstairs, which the bodyguard dutifully did, accompanied by more nurses than Changbin had fingers to count.

As the bodyguard walked themselves up the coiled stairway, he glanced down at the Prince lying in his arms, the boy’s gaze already on him, soaked with desperation, as deep as his voice when he spoke, as deep as he made people fall for him. Changbin could see how hard he was holding back, eyes reddening with unshed tears, his lips tinted with blood, and a body jolting up with each rising hiccup.

His eyes were racing back and forth on Changbin’s face, unrelenting and hopeful, looking for signs and answers that Changbin wasn’t _ready_ to give him.

It had been two days since then. Was Changbin ready now?

It seemed too unbelievable - the Prince of District 9, with hundreds if not thousands of people crawling at his feet like worms, each one better and richer than the last, and yet Felix would want his _bodyguard_. It made Changbin snort. _He should have become a comedian_.

Changbin had no money or fame, nor gold in his blood. He was excellent at being a bodyguard, and nothing more, nothing less. He had too much to lose if he were to hit on Felix; he could lose his reputation, his job as a bodyguard, future career prospects, and the worst of all - ruining their friendship. It meant too much to be a part of Felix’s life, since he had grown terribly fond of the Prince in spite of himself, letting the boy grow on him the way these vines grew on the side of the palace under his window.

He lazily eyed the moon from the pitch dark of his bedroom, leaning out the window while finishing his cigarette, ready for another dreamless night when he heard a knock on the door - an uncertain, hardly audible one at that. Did he even hear it right? He felt a sense of deja-vu at the panic of getting caught, especially since it was the dead of the night, so he had no idea who it could be.

He glanced through the peekhole, gasping when he saw Felix standing at the other end. He immediately sticked his head out, whispering,

“Why aren’t you sleeping, Prince? The nurses advised you to -”

“Can I come in?” The boy asked, interrupting Changbin with a pout, his voice as thin as the first layers of ice forming on the neighboring lakes, as thin as Changbin’s crumbling walls of defense.

The bodyguard nodded, opening the door enough to let Felix slip through. He barely had enough time to lock it before Felix latched onto him, wrapping his arms tightly around Changbin’s torso, his head buried in the man’s chest.

Changbin reluctantly welcomed the hug, his heart pounding in a vicious rhythm, especially at the way Felix sighed contently when he finally felt the bodyguard’s protective arms enveloping him.

“Why do you do this to me?” Felix whimpered, leaving a bewildered look on Changbin’s face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The Prince grunted in response, tearing himself away from the other’s embrace as fast as he jumped into it.

“I waited all day yesterday for you to come and talk to me. But you didn’t, so I had to come to you now!”

“But what is _it_ Felix? What do you want us to talk about?” The bodyguard asked, voice thrumming with the urge to scream, the frustration in the air becoming contagious as he felt his face heat up in union with the Prince’s.

“I got a marriage proposal from Prince Chan. My parents want me to marry him.”

“Well, all the better!” Replied Changbin sarcastically. “I’m glad we’ve discussed this. Is Chan the man you wanted?”

“ _Changbin_.” Felix blurted through gritted teeth. “I don’t love Chan! I don’t want any of the other princes! I don’t want to pretend anymore that I’m still looking for a husband, when we both know I’ve already found him! He never sent me a proposal...”

Changbin inhaled sharply through his nose, fervently reaching after Felix’s waist to press him against the wall. He had met the limits of his patience, had enough of the Prince’s riddle-talk. Once and for all, he had to _know_.

And Felix was _breathless_ with anticipation, caged between Changbin’s arms extended on either side of him.

“So what?” Changbin whispered into the remaining space between them. “I can’t do anything until you tell me.”

A heart-wrenched sob escaped the Prince, his chest bursting from the weight of his confession demanding release.

“I want _you_!” He sputtered, the words leaving Changbin covered in goosebumps. “ _Only you_!” He admitted, leaving himself torn bare and vulnerable.

Changbin had a million and one things to say in response, but they all died on the tip of his tongue, nothing more urgent all of a sudden than to hook his arms around Felix’s waist again, and claim the Prince’s lips in a sloppy and salty peck; little more than an experimental, impulsive taste at first.

He stopped immediately afterwards, checking for the Prince’s reaction, delighted to see him waiting with a look of need, wet lips still parted for Changbin to lean back in. Felix tried to mouth an impatient ‘ _please_ ,” too late before it got completely absorbed into the next kiss. Changbin locked their lips together, more carelessly and for much longer the second time around. And Changbin was not a _gentle_ kisser; he held Felix in place without wiggle room, pinned firmly to the wall, and took everything the Prince was giving him - every whimper that got swathed away, every shaky plea swallowed down, every time Changbin tried to part for air, only to be chased after. Felix was water between his hands, molding and arching to the shape of his palms curved around his body.

“I just want to be yours,” Begged Felix amids a series of heated kisses, feeling a familiar wave of shame and want surge through him. He was furiously blushing, embarrassed at how much he yearned after Changbin, and how the man knew that now too.

Desperate and hopeful, he reached up with one hand to adoringly trace over Changbin’s face and jawline, another entangled in his hair. “Please choose _me_.” He asked, loving the way Changbin smirked into the kiss.

“I’m not the one who’s supposed to be choosing.” The man noted.

Felix shook his head without opening his eyes, lips brushing against Changbin’s as he spoke.

“It’s _always_ been you. I’ve long made up my mind.”

“Is this even allowed? _You and me_?”

“They can’t stop me, so…” Felix teased, biting down on Changbin’s bottom lip, who in turn tugged at him with a growl, morphing the Prince’s chuckle into a staggered moan, followed by a satisfied grin.

  
Changbin wanted to laugh at how weird they must have looked together - Felix tasted like honey, and Changbin was just smoke - smoke in his soul, and smoke on his lips. Nicotine and sugar, feeding each others’ addiction. That was also the way Changbin liked to think of themselves - existing together until smoke bitters the honey, and honey sweetens the smoke. It was an unlikely match, and not meant to be, much like Changbin and Felix, but it worked, even if it took them five tries to get it right on the sixth.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a couple of studies suggesting that honey may reduce certain side-effects of smoking, so our Changbin is in good hands. :D I struggled a lot with whether to share this story or not since I always felt like it wasn't ready, but I hope you still enjoyed it!


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